


Seeing in Color

by badseb



Series: The story of Balthazar (and Sam) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Balthazar, BAMF Bella, Balthazar Lives, Dreamwalking, Gabe comes thru, Hurt!Balthazar, Implied Destiel - Freeform, Interdimensional beings being boss, Intro to the story of Dean (and Castiel), M/M, Sam Winchester is the purest, Sam is Pure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:32:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8682424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badseb/pseuds/badseb
Summary: Balthazar is dead. But he has friends in high places. Not Heaven though. Heaven sucks.





	1. 1

Gabriel grinned.

Yeah, sure, he was dead, but it wasn't so bad. 

He'd pocketed himself, you see, in a little fold of the reflection of the Universe, tucked away and safe. There were benefits to being a reality-bending trickster god, even if it was his second career. 

But now to more important things. 

He crossed the huge expanse of empty space, his shoes making a satisfying click on the glowing white floor that didn't exist. 

Balthazar was beautiful. He had always been beautiful. His True Form was tall and graceful and regal-looking, but his eyes were always kind and a little mischievous. Perhaps that's why they got along so well. 

But now that kindly light was gone, his great wings, once feathery and brown and beautiful, spread out as a burnt scar across the white space as he lay there lifeless. 

Well, mostly lifeless. Gabriel had caught him just in time. He was a god, after all. He sucked a lollipop and thought. 

This was going to be difficult. He could hack into his brother's halo and extract the frequencies of his consciousness, but he was worried about memory. It was a delicate process. On Humans it was simpler. How many memories did those little creatures have, five?  
Balthazar was old. He had thousands of years worth of memories stored in his complicated database. To extract them all would be a long and difficult job- and then there was no way they would all fit in the brain of his Human vessel without some heavy duty magical alteration. 

He could do it, of course, but it would hurt. His brother would be weak. But he would be alive.

He looked long and hard at him. There was no hesitation in his heart, but he paused to commit to memory his brother's True Form that he would likely never see again. That he was about to dissect to pull out the faint light that was the energy of Balthazar's life. 

Even as he lay there helpless, a feeling of protection still hovered around Balthazar. Electric blue ran up his body that was taller than most Human skyscrapers, brown and gold crowning his head. Those arms that had hugged him countless times as a child, the hands that had taught him the ways of mischief and magic as they hid away from their family's quarrels. The mouth whose grin he had laughed with a hundred thousand times. Those eyes that had wept for him when he died. 

But Gabriel shook his head. It was silly to be sentimental over a vessel. His brother would walk the Earth again, he vowed. He took a deep breath and brought out his tools, rolling up his sleeves. 

"Hang in there, bro. I'll get you up and running again." He said with a smile.

Suddenly, a cool voice hit his brain. This was new. He usually didn't get prayers up here in his pocket of reality. 

"Gabriel, I heard the news about Balthazar. I'm coming to you."

"What? Who are you?" Gabriel stammered, pulling out his Angel-blade. But suddenly she was there.

She was a tall soul robed in layers of celestial power- so many, in fact, that she was more god than Human.

"Bella?" He asked, surprised.

"Please," she said, scowling, "no one calls me that anymore. Call me Athena." She said.

Gabriel skipped the 'how'- he recognized the accumulated power of his brother's arsenal when he saw it, even though it looked different on a Human- and instead went straight to why.

"You know what Balthazar did for me." she said. "It is only right I repay him. Besides-" she said, hesitating, looking on his mostly-dead form with a strange kind of sadness that was new to her eyes, "if he hadn't trained me in his job he would still be necessary to Heaven. And Heaven would have brought him back. But since I'm here he's left for dead to avoid redundancy." 

Gabriel scowled. 

"Jesus." she said, shaking her head. "You know for being in the loop you Angels can be downright blind. And you're one of the better ones." She said, crossing over to Balthazar, her heels clicking on the floor and her cape dragging out behind her. 

"Better?" Gabe asked with a cocky grin.

"Don't let it get to your head. Balthazar is the best." She said, bending down near the fallen Angel's head. 

"Oh, yes, well-" 

"Are we going to resurrect him or not?" She asked, smiling, placing her hand gently on Balthazar's forehead. Gabriel grinned and went to help her.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balthie has one Hell of a hangover.

Balthazar opened his eyes.

Something was terribly wrong.   
Something horrible had happened- but here he was, fine, as if it were just a bad dream. He rubbed his face, surprised that he had been asleep. He must have been hurt or extremely taxed last night. What had happened?

He tried to remember but every one of his thousands of years worth of memories danced in the forefront of his brain as if they'd just now been burned into the little gray folds of his vessel.  
It hurt, and that was more telling than anything else. He was healing terribly slow from all this- if at all.   
What was it?

Balthazar took a deep breath and concentrated on figuring out what had happened. On not being afraid. 

A vivid memory of Lucifer's fall came up, but no- that couldn't be it. That was long, long ago, right? His knowledge of when it had happened seemed to contradict the brightness of the memory.

Gabriel was dead. Was that it? No- something in his heart told him that Gabriel was alive. But he wasn't sure if that was just his refusal to accept it. He tried not to cry thinking about it and focused.   
His whole vessel ached terribly. He'd never felt pain quite like this before, but the longer he thought, the less the pain grew. He was healing, just ridiculously slowly. 

Where was he? He looked around. He wasn't home, that was for sure. He was laying in some seedy hotel bed, curled atop the covers as if he'd been thrown there.

Wait- was it Sam?  
Sam!   
Memories flooded him and he smiled. Had they-

No, that wasn't what had happened last night. He would have remembered and it wouldn't explain his symptoms. But it would explain the hotel.

His skin felt terribly cold. And why did his head hurt so?! It felt as if all of his memories had been ripped out and shoved back into his vessel. 

Castiel! Castiel had gone rogue, he recalled. He gingerly readied to approach the broad-bands of Angel Radio. He remembered something serious went down but he wasn't sure what.   
He tried desperately to reach the signal that he'd spent most of his life blocking out, but all was silence. He was cut off.

He sat bolt up. He couldn't feel his True Form at all. It was completely amputated.

Fear flooded his body. He felt trapped, confined. He felt his heart-rate increase and was afraid. But he tried to concentrate. A terrible creeping feeling sank in.   
And the worst part was, it added up. He didn't look, but ghosted his fingers over his stomach.

His vessel was fine, but there was a hole in his shirt, and when he did look down he saw a dried, rust-colored stain run down from his gut, all the way down to his feet as if he'd been left bleeding for hours.

But he was alive! But how was he here? And why was he cut off from his vessel?

He had trained Bella. She now guarded the Arsenal just as much as he did. He knew, upon taking her under his wing, that Heaven didn't care for redundancy. He knew that if he died, Heaven wouldn't bring him back, seeing as they'd have Bella in his place. Besides, if it was Heaven that brought him back, they likely would have saved his True Form rather than his pretty little vessel. 

He felt lightheaded. Weak. Sick, even. 

"Bella," he prayed, "are you there?"

She appeared before him, in all her power and glory.

"Hey Balthie," she said with a kind smile, resting her hand on his shoulder. Balthazar was glad for that, for he felt he might fall over. 

"How am I alive?" He asked. She smiled.

"Come now, you didn't think you could make me a god without a price, did you? I'm not going to let you go that easy." She laughed. Balthazar felt a strange warmth flood through his chest.

"But I didn't do it alone, Balthazar. Gabriel helped." 

Balthazar nearly jumped up but had to catch himself. He was very weak.

"Gabriel?! He's alive! Where is he?" He stammered, his eyes glistening. 

"He warped himself into a pocket dimension. He's quite happy there. He is not yet strong enough to walk the Earth again, but he'll visit you in your dreams. He caught you, Balthazar." She said, smiling. "He grabbed your True Form and we salvaged your life energy and your memories and sealed them in your vessel. We had to make some modifications, though." 

"So I'm not Human?"

"No, not entirely. In fact...your True Form is...well, Gabriel's working on it. He'll update you tonight." She said, sitting down beside him.

"I feel so cold," he said softly. "My Grace-"

"Yes. Don't worry. It's still there." She said. He relaxed a little. "I must say your brother is quite ingenious. It was a delight to work with someone almost on my level." She said with a grin. 

"Your vessel couldn't take it all at once. With your memories and knowledge- it wouldn't all fit. The modifications we had to make were too volatile to house your Grace all at once. Your vessel would have torn itself apart trying to hold you. So we put it on a sort of delivery system. Little bits at a time, healing you, keeping you alive. And as you grow stronger it will return. You should be well again soon."

Balthazar nodded sleepily, but smiled. 

"Thank you, Bella." He said, kissing her cheek. She kissed his in return and stood.

"I must be going now." She said. "They're coming."

"Who?" Asked Balthazar- but she was gone. Someone was at the door. He grabbed his Angel-blade and stood. 

The door swung open and there he was, a moose in the headlights. 

"Balthazar-" Sam gasped.


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a lot of kissing.

Sam felt like dying. He didn't like to think about it, but deep down he hadn't really been surprised that Balthazar had gotten hurt. Not because he lacked faith in Balthazar, but because that was what happened to everyone he loved. He hated himself for loving Balthazar. Why did he give in?!

He shouldn't have loved him. He should have stayed far far away- kept him safe. In all honesty he wasn't sure this wasn't some vengeful spirit of Balthazar, wanting justice. 

And Sam was ready to face it. Because he felt that this vengeful spirit was right, and that if Sam let him kill him then maybe Balthazar could be at peace. And Sam would burn in Hell happily knowing that his curse was over and that he was getting what he deserved for hurting Balthazar. 

Balthazar dropped his blade and ran over to him. Sam didn't flinch. But Balthazar curved his hand gently along Sam's jaw and kissed him with all his heart.

Suddenly all of Sam's anxiety went away. This was why he fell in love with Balthazar. Not because he wanted something- but because it was mutual. Balthazar loved him just as much as he did Balthazar. They both knew the risks, and they both took them together. Balthazar was his safe place. Sam leaned into the kiss.

"Hey!" Said Dean, coming in behind Sam and pushing Balthazar away hard. Balthazar was weak and fell to the floor. Sam caught him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He yelled at his brother. 

"Sammy get away from him. He's probably a ghost or something. This is obviously non-kosher." Dean said, pulling Sam's jacket. 

"Dean! I got this." 

"Do you? Cause it kinda looks like you don't." Dean said hotly. 

Sam looked into Balthazar's eyes. He didn't care if he was a vengeful spirit. He didn't care if Balthazar was about to kill him. He cradled the Angel's shoulders tightly.   
Balthazar grinned a little and looked from Sam to Dean. 

"Fret not darling," he said very softly. His voice was weak and his face was pale, his eyes red around the edges. He reached into Sam's pocket and drew out the flask of Holy water. He popped the top and took a sip. He took the knife from Sam's belt- making Dean tense up- and cut his own arm a little. Dean relaxed. 

Then he grabbed Sam's collar and pulled him for a kiss, long and deep. 

"Aw come on, guys. Do you have to do that here?" Dean complained. 

"Dean, could you give us a few minutes," Sam asked very softly, not taking his eyes off Balthazar. Dean left quickly. 

"Balthazar. I"m so sorry-" Said Sam.

"For what? Darling, none of this was your fault. How could it be?" he replied softly. "No more of that. Please, darling." He said, reaching up and touching Sam's cheek. 

"You're still bleeding," Sam said, noticing that Balthazar's arm hadn't healed yet. 

"I'm a little broken, love." He replied with a laugh, kissing Sam's neck.

"Balth-"

"Shh...love, I'm okay. I just want to hold you. Please- I thought I'd never get to again." He said very softly. Sam looked at him and felt every piece of his anxiety fade away. He wasn't cursed. Balthazar loved him. Balthazar was here. It wasn't his fault. No dark and terrible part of his mind could doubt that Balthazar loved him.

Sam leaned in and kissed him very gently. "Are you Human?" he asked. Balthazar looked so pale. He was worried.

"No. Just a slow healer for a little while." 

Sam pulled away a little.

"Here," he said, reaching into his bag, "At least let me bandage it?" he asked. He pulled out some gauze. Balthazar pulled himself up so he was sitting against the wall and Sam wrapped his arm, tying it off snugly. 

"Thank you," said Balthazar. 

"I'm worried about you. You're hurt." Sam said, not meaning his arm. 

"Well I did just come back from the dead." Balthazar laughed. "But what if I told you," he said, smiling in-between placing little kisses on Sam's lips, "that your kisses make me stronger?"

He had his hand on Sam's chest and his other held his belt, pulling him down closer over him. Sam laughed a little and braced his arm beside Balthazar on the wall he sat against. 

"Explain that one to me," Sam whispered, trying very hard not to melt into his arms as he kissed him all over.

"Well...you see it's your soul. I can taste it. It is energy. It is healing me. Heal me Sam." He said laughing. "Please heal me," he whispered.

"Well I guess that makes sense," Sam said, trying to ignore Balthazar's hand that was snaking up under his shirt. He leaned in and kissed the mostly-Angel.

"Sammy it's been a few-" said Dean, bursting through the door. 

"Dean!" Yelled Sam. 

"Sorry, sorry! Just making sure, you know, that he isn't killing you."

"He's not killing me!"

"Not yet." He said angrily.

Balthazar rested his hands on the floor beside him. Sam missed the feeling of them on his body. He had his eyes locked into Balthazar's. 

"Sorry Dean. That's just a risk I'mma have to take." He said, and leaned in to kiss Balthazar's delighted face. Dean left hurriedly. 

Sam didn't care anymore. He didn't care about his anxiety, he didn't care about his worries. All he cared about was Balthazar.  
Balthazar ran his fingers through Sam's hair, kissing him warm and slow. But of course it wasn't enough. Of course they needed to be closer.   
Sam slid his arm under Balthazar's knees and scooped him up. 

"What are you doing, love?" Balthazar laughed, as Sam carried him across the room. 

"I don't know," said Sam with a smile, putting him down on the bed and crawling over him to kiss him more. "What do you want me to be doing?" He asked. 

"Oh, well, that depends..." said Balthazar, kicking off his shoes. 

"On what?" Sam asked, shrugging off his jacket. 

"What you want to be doing." Balthazar replied. 

"Oh. You." Said Sam very softly, leaning down to kiss him. They both laughed at their corniness and gave in to the feeling of each other. 

Sam kissed his lips and his chin and then looked down. 

"Balthazar-" he said, seeing the bloodstains. 

"No no no, I'm fine-" said Balthazar, pulling his shirt up to show his unscathed abdomen. Sam eyed the blood. There was so much of it. Balthazar had been stabbed once and left lying on the cold cement floor of that warehouse, totally abandoned, bleeding to death alone. 

"I'm so sorry Balthazar," said Sam. 

~~~~

Balthazar looked at Sam and grinned.

"It's okay, love." He said, ignoring his skin that was still cold. But Sam ran his fingers gently over his body and leaned down to place warm, mouthy kisses over his stomach. 

Feelings felt so much more intense! It was as if each one scraped across his heart and he had no power to heal it but time. It was as if he were awake for the first time, as if he were fully present in his vessel as he used to be in his True Form. 

No. This was his True Form. The form in which he could be with Sam.   
He couldn't see Sam's soul quite as clearly as he could when he was at full power, but he could definitely feel it- as if all of its sunshine was radiating from Sam's skin, washing away the cold of that terrible cement floor.   
He pulled Sam up from kissing his stomach and kissed his lips. 

"Darling," he whispered, softly. 

"Yes?" Said Sam, resting a hand on Balthazar's chest.

"I'll never leave you again. I mean, unless you want. I love you, Sam. With all my heart." He said very softly. 

"I never want you to, Balthazar. I love you." Said Sam. 

They both felt it, that nagging, distracting energy, the way they felt naked when not touching each other, the way they couldn't be close enough. They kissed hungrily, pulling each other closer until they had to take off their clothes to close every possible distance. 

It was different with both feet in the vessel. Physical contact with Sam dumped dopamine into Balthazar's brain and he could taste every molecule, like a drug he couldn't heal himself from. This was definitely a new kind of kick. He could feel Sam in every cell, as if his skin lit up wherever Sam touched him. And damn did Sam know how to touch him. 

Sam was darker than Balthazar expected, but not in a bad way- nor in a way that was uncharacteristic of his soul. Perhaps it was because he had been hurt so many times. Perhaps it was because he was afraid of loosing the person he loved like he always did. Perhaps it was because he'd grown up thinking he was no more than a monster who would hurt people. Sam went slowly, very very gently, as if he were afraid of himself. But Balthazar encouraged him, and Sam fed off that encouragement as if he'd never fed before. 

It was dark and hungry and primal and at the same time kind and sweet and gentle. It was as if they were both getting drunk off each others skin. And Sam's soul shone- Balthazar could feel it in his touch, hear it in his voice- and he held him close.

Balthazar's heart sang at the opportunity to give Sam something- to please him after he had been hurt so many times, to offer him a place of safety, of warmth, of love. 

Drawbacks of being cut off from the regenerative powers of Heaven meant that his stamina wasn't as long as he was used to it being. But maybe that was just because he was with Sam- and god damn. Just seeing Sam's eyes as Balthazar got him off was nearly enough for Balthazar. And then what Sam did was almost more than he could handle. 

They lay exhausted on the bed, Sam's head on Balthazar's chest, rubbing his collarbone affectionately with his thumb. Balthazar felt warm all over, and they snuggled close under the blankets, holding each other tight, and fell fast asleep together. 

~~~~

Dean went back to the desk. 

"Hey, uh, we had an unexpected friend. Can I get another room?"

The clerk grinned as she chewed her gum loudly.

"Boyfriend kicked you out, didn't 'e?" 

"What? No- just give me the damn room okay I have zero patience for this right now." He said angrily. She did and he paid, giving her an angry 'thanks' as he took the key and stormed out to his new room.

He threw his stuff on the bed and walked up and down the room.

No, it was ridiculous and stupid and weak. He wasn't about to be jealous of Sammy. That was the dumbest shit ever. He was happy for Sam. Happy for Balthazar- even though he didn't like him that much. He reached into his bag and took out a beer, popped the top. 

He sat on the bed and tried not to think about it. It wasn't Sam's fault Cass was gone. It wasn't Cass's fault he went so far off the reservation. Cass had been sick, was all. Some kind of prideful, egomaniac Angel sickness.

But no matter how many times Dean told himself that he couldn't register Castiel's actions as anything other than a cruel betrayal of everything they had. Everything they built together. 

He sniffed loudly and wiped his face. He wasn't going to cry, that was sure as Hell. He flicked on the TV and gulped some beer.

That was it. He'd have a few drinks, watch some porn, jerk off and fall asleep. Then he'd wake up with a smile and get back to hunting. Saving people. That's what he'd do.

That's what he'd do.


	4. 4

Balthazar skipped up the steps of that beautifully gaudy palace. It was Gabriel's now, though, forged in his own dimension- and that made for some personal touches. For instance, the chocolate fountain, ice-cream sculptures, and armies of strippers. But Gabe smiled widely when Balthazar walked in, as if nothing he'd made made him happier than seeing Balthazar smile. 

"So it worked." He laughed as Balthazar pulled him in for a hug.

"Indeed it did! I am so happy to see you Gabriel!" he said, his eyes shining. Gabriel grinned as if he were about to cry. 

"Good to see you too, bro. Thought I'd lost you there for a minute." He said, choking on his words a little. Then he laughed and hugged Balthazar again tightly. They went in to the palace and they talked and drank and laughed and Gabriel told him everything that had happened. 

So Cass really had done it- and then the Winchesters stopped him like the bosses they were. Cass was ill now, though, with the tail-end of the madness he had taken on from Sam. Balthazar didn't comment, but he was very thankful to Cass for that. He knew that Castiel had seen the error of his ways. 

"Do you know where I might find him?" Balthazar asked. Gabriel shook his head.

"He's been real sick. I haven't been able to reach him in his dreams." He said, sipping his brandy. Balthazar nodded.

"Oh, but look at the time!" Said Gabriel with a grin. "Sammy boy is gonna miss you," he said mischievously. Balthazar blushed and Gabriel snapped his fingers, the dream fading instantly around them. 

~~~~

Sam was smiling over at him when he opened his eyes. Damn! It was beautiful to wake up!   
It was beautiful to open your eyes and pull yourself from honest, unforced sleep, to feel the sun on your face and the warmth of Sam laying next to you with his hand on your chest, knowing that you could stay. 

"We have to go," Sam said, leaning down to kiss Balthazar's head.

"No-why?" Balthazar asked groggily, grabbing Sam's wrist. Sam laughed. 

"We've gotta check out. I want...if you want, of course- you to come back to the base with me." He said.

"The base?"

"Dean and I found it. From the Men of Letters. It's nice. And it's safe. And it's...home. Will you come home with me?" He asked with a smile. 

Balthazar smiled widely. "Of course darling." He said, and kissed Sam's cheek.

They met up with Dean. He was all smiles, and hopped in the car, turning up the music and singing obnoxiously loudly. Sam seemed happy to see him happy, but Balthazar knew what was hiding under the surface. He had no doubt Sam knew as well, but Sam was at the point of accepting any bit of happiness from Dean, so rare was it. He had to believe his brother was okay. Balthazar saw him clearly, though.  
When they stopped in a gas station and Sam went in to get food, he stayed behind.

"Dean," he said gently. 

Dean glanced up and continued punching buttons on the gas pump. 

"I know you're not the talking type, particularly not to me- but I'd like you to know that I'm sorry for what he did. I truly am sorry- for every consequence. Castiel was sick. He was my brother as you are Sam's. I felt his betrayal much as you did, I suspect."

"Oh, you suspect." Dean spat. Balthazar laughed an airy, sad laugh.

"This isn't a competition, Dean. He's been my brother longer than there have been separate continents. But I know that what you share with him is very profound-"

"Was." He said, clicking the pump and feeding Baby. He polished a spot on her a little with his sleeve.

"All I'm asking is you have a little faith in him. I know that sounds ridiculous," he said as Dean made some very incredulous faces, "but you trusted Sam time after time, and Sam trusted you time after time."

"Yeah, but we didn't try to be friggin god!" Dean said very loudly.

"Castiel was just trying to be more like his father. Better than his father." Balthazar said quietly. "I'm sure you can relate." he added. Dean shot a dart at him with his eyes but didn't say anything. His jaw set angrily and he didn't look at Balthazar again. Sam came out with a bag.

"Did you get pie?" Asked Dean.

"Pie?"

Dean sighed very slowly.

"I'll get it. Be back in a pop." Said Balthazar. He strode quickly into the store and picked out the freshest-looking pie. He got a whole. He also got a case of Dean's favorite beer. 

He didn't usually feel this way about things. But he knew the impact Cass had had- he didn't even want to begin thinking about the mess Heaven must be in- and deep down Balthazar felt a tad responsible.  
He didn't regret not killing Castiel. Not for a split second. But that didn't mean he had to be happy with the outcome, or accept the pain it had caused.

Dean seemed a little less angry when he came back, albeit a little more sad. But a tiny smile flickered at the corner of his mouth when Balthazar handed him the pie and the beer.   
The ride was surprisingly okay after that. They talked and laughed a little, and Dean seemed a little friendlier. The look in Sam's eyes that it bought was priceless.

~~~~

Sam opened the door to the bunker. Balthazar looked impressed. Dean said he was tired and took his pie and beer to his room. Balthazar watched sadly after him.

"You know, it's not your fault. No one could have stopped Cass at that point." said Sam, standing beside him. Balthazar looked a little surprised.

"I wish you were as kind to yourself as you are to me, darling." He said with a little smile. Sam laughed.

"I'm getting there." He said. Balthazar wrapped his fingers around Sam's, staring down at the floor and thinking.

"I want to find Castiel. I want to help him. Would you hate me for that?" Balthazar asked, looking up at Sam through his eyelashes.

Sam agreed about finding Cass- though even if he didn't he would have had a hard time saying no to Balthazar's face, full of pain and resolve and pleading.

"Hell no. I want Cass to be okay." Sam said. "I mean, I'm still angry that he...killed you, but if you say he was sick, I trust you. He's not gonna hurt you again, though, I'll make sure of that." Sam added quickly. Balthazar smiled and pulled the hunter in for a kiss. The kiss got bigger and bigger and Sam pushed him against the wall and mouthed his way down Balthazar's throat.

"I want to take you to France," said Balthazar breathily. He wrapped one leg around Sam's waist to pull him in and Sam reflexively put his hand on it, bracing himself against the wall with the other. 

"France?" He said, lost in the smell of Balthazar's skin and the feel of the Angel's too-tight, full jeans against his thigh. 

"Yes, for a vacation." Balthazar laughed.

"I don't get vacations." Sam said simply, distracted by the way Balthazar was pulling him in by the belt and running his hand up his chest. He kissed him some more.

"I know darling, that's the problem," Balthazar replied, his breath wavering as Sam pushed himself harder against him. Jeans! Sam didn't know if they made it better or worse but it was tight and numb-feeling and very interesting, rubbing against each other like that.

"But luckily," he said, unbuckling Sam's belt, "I know a way to get around that." He said. Sam didn't have much time to ask how.

~~~~

Dean closed the door to his room, grateful that the doors around here were thick. He ate some pie, caught the last twenty minutes of Die Hard on TV, and drank half a beer. He was distracted, just waiting until it was dark. When it was he grabbed his bag, opened up the two layers of warded, salt-coated iron shutters, and shimmied open the window. He hoisted himself out, carefully closing everything on the way. 

When Cass first went missing from the mental hospital, Dean would sneak out every night in anger telling himself he was hunting him. But over time the anger wore away and was replaced by a timid hope that masked itself as concern. He was still hella angry at Cass. But...he wasn't hunting him anymore. He was just...looking for him.

He hit the road and followed what few leads he had. Last he'd heard someone like him under the name 'Clarence' had been spotted in a town not far from the bunker. He drove there and hit the streets, Angel-blade stowed carefully in his sleeve. 

There was nothing. It was hopeless as usual. No answers, no explanation, just someone he loved hurting him and running off like every damn person in this world. Except maybe Sammy. 

He felt like screaming. He kicked a trash can angrily. 

A noise reacted to his in the alleyway. He grabbed the handle of his gun reflexively. It was probably just a dog. 

A pair of big eyes met his- just about as pure and hurt as a stray dog's might have been. He was huddled in the alley and though he dropped what he was doing, Dean could tell he'd been raiding the dumpsters for food. 

Dean felt his jaw clench reflexively as he tried not to cry for or kill the fallen Angel.

Cass just looked at him, as if he expected Dean to hurt him. As if he thought he deserved it. Dean looked away.

"Come on, Cass." He said, his voice husky. He wasn't sure whether he was more angry or relieved. He just really wanted to hit something. 

He wanted to hit the Cass that put his Cass here. He wanted to hate the Cass that hurt him by hurting his Cass. He rubbed his face.

"Come on." He said again, as Cass hadn't moved. Cautiously, Castiel came out of the shadows. He was filthy and cold and looked half starved and sick. Dean put his arm tightly around his hunched shoulders and lead him down the street. 

Because in the end Cass was family. And family hurts you and family does things you can never forgive and family is an all around mutual pain in the ass. But god damn if Dean wasn't going to take care of his family, even if his family didn't take care of him. Because that's what family is. That's what Dean was there for- taking care of his family. Yeah, maybe he sucked at it, but damn if he wasn't gonna try. 

"Come on Cass. I'mma get you somethin' to eat and then we're goin' home." 

~~~~

They lay on the bed exhausted. Sam had thought the first time with Balthazar had been amazing, but this was even better. He rubbed his face and caught his breath and looked over to his lover. Balthazar grinned.

"Are you going to come to France with me?" He asked softly, nuzzling his head in the crook of Sam's neck. 

"I'd love to, Balth, but it's kind of impossible now-" he laughed.

"Just say you will." Said Balthazar, kissing his collarbone a little. "Please darling?" 

Sam laughed. "Yes, I'll come to France with you." He said with a smile.

Balthazar grinned and leaned in to kiss him long and slow. They snuggled close, still holding on to each other as if they were still afraid it wasn't real, and they slowly fell asleep.

Sam looked around. Damn.

France was beautiful. The sun on the cobbled streets, the green countryside, the horizon marked by-

"That hideous tower. I tell you, when they built that thing I was so depressed." Said Balthazar, stirring his coffee delicately.

"Um- Balth, how are we here?" Sam asked, sitting down on the cafe chair cautiously. 

"We're not, actually." Said Balthazar. "Do you like it? If you do I'll leave it." He said.

"The- the Eiffel Tower?"

"Yes." 

"Well I mean it's not bad. I thought it was...fancy?" He said. Balthazar looked at him sadly.

"Oh love, I've so much to show you." He said softly.

"How's about you start with how we're here." Said Sam laughing, pulling his coffee closer on its little plate.

"We're dreamwalking." Said Balthazar. "I've a talisman for it." He added with a twinkle in his eye. 

"So that's why they're selling my favorite kind of salad?" Sam asked, lighting up when he saw the menu. Balthazar grinned.

"Yes, love." He said. "This dream is made from both of our memories and ideas of France. Yours includes salad and the Eiffel Tower. Isn't it wonderful? I mean- at least until I'm well enough to really take us here." 

Sam grinned widely, the sun on his face for what felt like the first time in years. The calm street spread out before them, not a monster or a danger in sight. For a few hours he knew he wouldn't have to worry about a thing. They could just be themselves. They could just be free.


End file.
